


a bug encased in amber (i would wait a thousand years to meet you)

by constanted



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Ben Wyatt Voice It's About The Hands, Healing, M/M, My First Crush Is Trapped In A Demon Pact: The Caduceus Clay Story, Non-Linear Narrative, Pining, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Weird Roommates To Friends To Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 22:21:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20955842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/constanted/pseuds/constanted
Summary: or: thirteen moments, scattered, about a gravekeeper scared of the ocean falling just a little bit for a sailor scared of ghosts.





	a bug encased in amber (i would wait a thousand years to meet you)

**Author's Note:**

> Ah_shit_here_we_go_again.png

** SIX **

There is a moment, before dreams, before blood, before voices, where Caduceus is frightened of Fjord. In fairness, he is frightened of most of his new friends (are they friends?) in this moment, but the fear of Fjord is something else, something distinct. Jester is a fear of excess, Yasha a fear of rejection, so on and so forth. Fjord, though, he is the fear of being _taken_, that sense of drowning—

Caduceus cannot imagine a life lived at sea, is all. Or accepting the will of a clearly malevolent creature. Or sleeping with someone who has such obvious ill-intent.

Fjord falls asleep quickly, that night, exhausted, and Caduceus does not. A candle is still lit in the room, casting just enough light to observe the way that he breathes. Caduceus has thought a lot about breathing, lately, about the loss of breath that comes with this ocean that hates him. Fjord’s breaths are quick, clean, softer than his spoken words. He does not ever seem like he’s truly at rest. He rolls, a bit; dark hair falls all over his face. Beau had offered Caduceus a haircut in exchange for a haircut, and he considers extending the invitation to Fjord, as well, but decides against it. There is a certain intimacy there that he does not trust Fjord with, not yet.

** THREE **

There is a moment before that: that first night on the ship, a soft, sad look as Caduceus collapses into himself, one of the two looks of genuine _understanding _he sees. Fjord doesn’t say anything, just looks. It doesn’t help. 

Caduceus swears, Fjord puts on seven new masks after that glance.

** TEN **

“Did you know I was lying about my voice?” They are in Reani’s home, and tomorrow they will begin to fix this sword. His sword. “You—that night, you didn’t react.”

“There were bigger things to worry about.”

“But did you know?”

“I feel like you and Caleb are convinced I’m some kind of psychic.”

Fjord just looks at him, gold, gold eyes. “You’re not?” and Caduceus _really _likes this version of Fjord. (And, he thinks, selfish, it’s a version that he was the first to meet.) And Fjord laughs, just a little. Looks at the floor, and then back up at Caduceus.

“I didn’t know it was your voice. I knew that you were—hiding. There was something that was weighing you down. Part of it was that… aberration, that creature that hurt you. Part of it was self-inflicted. Is the—your chest, has it healed?”

“Might be some scarring. I haven’t, er. Haven’t really focused on it.”

“That’s fair. That’s fair. I can—if you’d like—I can make sure it’s all—“

“I—you healed me up wonderfully that night. You really did. It’s alright. Er. And, er. Thanks. For not—being—for being there that night in general. It was. Kind of you. Everything’s been—fucking kind of you. I don’t understand how you do it.”

And Caduceus isn’t sure of his meaning there, so he doesn’t respond, just touches Fjord’s shoulder, keeps his hand there a second too long. His skin is warm.

** FOUR **

“I like broken things,” is his explanation to why he bought that sword in the first place, and it’s true, because otherwise, he wouldn’t like these people. In their cabin, on that ship, Fjord sees him looking at it, and asks, “Do you ever—y’know, do battle?”

“Huh?”

Fjord mimes sword-fighting. A little bit comically. Caduceus laughs, a little bit, at the motion, shakes his head no. “I just think it’s nice.” And Fjord murmurs something that Caduceus doesn’t care to listen to. “I don’t need much, but I like beautiful things, and I like broken things, and if something’s both, I might as well admire it.”

“I s’pose,” Fjord says, shrugs. He does that a lot; surrenders to something he doesn’t understand. Caduceus puts the sword back in his bag. Sips his drink. “Caleb said that your cemetery was beautiful.”

“Graveyard. And it is. And it’s dying.”

“Beautiful ’n’ broken.” Caduceus grants a smile to that, shakes his head no. Sighs. Fjord keeps talking. “Graveyards always kinda creeped me out, y’know? They’re always a little haunted. And—then—stones and flowers, it’s just—y’know. Made death feel so damn artificial.” Which doesn’t make sense. 

“I can assure you, there’s nothing artificial about my home." And he rolls his eyes, adds, to lighten the mood. "And it’s only _slightly _haunted. Take out all the ghosts and ghouls and all you have is a bunch of corpses, rotting, trying to speak to the living."

Fjord winces, then snorts. Smirks. “You don’t tell many jokes.”

“Maybe you ought to pay more attention to me. I’m working on being funnier, anyway. Graveyard ghosts aren’t the best audience for comedy.”

** NINE **

The blood isn’t the first thing that takes his attention. It’s the posture. But the blood is pretty quick to jump out, too, and Caduceus’ whole _job _is healing people, so—well, he fixes that up best he can. Looks at those eyes. Sees he’s still in pain.

There’s an “I need your help,” in a voice that’s so warm and _real _that it shifts the whole image of Fjord in his mind; it’s not the blood, it’s the _posture_, because the posture isn’t hidden. The posture isn’t lying.

Caduceus lifts Fjord up, rushes him to the freshest air he can find. The less footsteps, the better, really, and it's good to know that Fjord's still _there_, still physical, still present, in spite of whatever that _thing_'s done to him now.

And Fjord speaks to him, really, genuinely speaks, and Caduceus’ chest feels heavy and soft, and something clicks into place. Then and there.

** TWO **

Caduceus is fascinated by Fjord. (There’s a _j_ somewhere in there, which is weird, because there’s not a _juh_ sound anywhere in his name, but the _e_ in Caduceus’ name isn’t really heard either, so he can’t judge). He is particularly handsome and polite and mysterious. Caduceus isn’t sure if he _likes _the fellow—he doesn’t care much for liars, and he doesn’t care much for the whole _unnatural magic _vibe, but he does care for politeness and an appreciative smile. (Though, he swears, half-orcs typically have different teeth than that. But again, he can’t judge; he’s weird-looking too, and Fjord’s shown him the courtesy to not comment on most of that stuff.)

** EIGHT **

Fjord is watching the three of them as they string up lights. He’s not made his presence known, but he’s there, and Caduceus knows it. Yasha is humming some old song from her circus days, and the garden-to-be is so warm and pleasant that it’s a shame Fjord’s not joining in. Jester would like that. Caduceus would like that too. And Yasha. Caduceus turns around to ask, but the second their eyes meet, Fjord turns and slips back inside.

Huh.

** FIVE **

Here is what Caduceus wants to say that night he sees Fjord creep into their cabin, smelling of sweat and perfume:

_You do not have to do this alone. I am frightened of you, and I am frightened for you. I worry that you are falling so deep into this unnatural horror that wants you._

_Other things can want you. I need you to know that._

_Softer things can want you._

Instead he says:

_Sleep well with your bad decisions._

Which is maybe a little bit of a dick move.

**TWELVE**

Caduceus looks at Fjord’s arms that morning at the Kiln. He looks at them a _lot. _And Fjord’s face. And Fjord’s body. He looks at what Melora has gifted Fjord with, what Melora has helped him become. And he sighs. Yearns, however awful that may be.

He is guilty, of course; he cannot burden Fjord with his feelings, not when Fjord is still trying to learn who he is, but—

He might as well admire something beautiful, something slowly-becoming-less-broken. The curious look in those eyes, the way he sticks out his tongue, just a little bit between his tusks as he focuses on the sword. The sword Caduceus found for him. The sword Caduceus held for him.

(There was a moment of deciding, and that moment has blurred in Caduceus’ mind. It was at sea, probably?)

** SEVEN **

Caduceus takes a meager sip of his drink; it’s not _good _but if he returns a full cup, he’ll look suspicious. And if he’s suspicious in the context of a _pirate island, _that’s probably not a safe thing to be.

And Fjord is apologizing about the whole sleeping-with-Avantika thing, telling him to keep quiet about it—though, Caleb already seems to know, which means Beau and Nott probably know, too. It’s a lot. It’s—confusing, really, the _why _of it all.

He doesn’t understand this man. He doesn’t understand much at all. He doesn't know why he cares so much about this.

** ELEVEN **

The exact _feeling _hits later than the _realization_, is the thing. Not just in his chest, but all-consuming, the incense around them swirling, Fjord’s eyes so genuinely _wanting_. His hands, cold from having removed his gloves, in Caduceus’ hands, equally cold for the same reasons.

Fjord’s run out of questions. He didn’t ask the right ones, but he tried, and that’s something.

And a word springs to mind, _love_, but that’s a reckless word, one of the ones Calliope would call him stupid for using, (_one of the first men you meet in the outside world, just because he has a pretty face and will let you try to make him better?_ her voice says, in his head, and he wants to disagree but he is at least grateful that he remembers what her voice sounds like after all this time), so he says _miracle _instead and hope that it conveys the same message. The spell is over, and Fjord is still holding his hands. Fjord knows this. Caduceus knows this.

Caduceus, at least, doesn’t care too much.

** ONE **

There is a moment, before fear, before oceans, before knowledge, where Caduceus is simply _perceiving_ Fjord. Well. He doesn’t know Fjord’s name, at this point. He heard it, but it’s not fully there yet, it’ll take some times said aloud, fjord-fjord-fjord. A good, round, name. Solid. No surname, but Beau didn’t give one either, and he’s not heard one for this unconscious Yasha person, either. So maybe that’s just not a thing that everyone has.

But Fjord is polite, has himself together. Has a nice face. Nice hair. Nice eyes. An interesting handshake, projecting more strength than it actually has.

He’s thought it about all of these people, these tiny blurs from dreams come to life, but he thinks it again:_ this is who I am supposed to be with. These people. This person is one of my signs._

** THIRTEEN **

It goes like this: a wound, left unhealed because there are bigger things to worry about. It’s his bad knee, but the fighting’s over and they need to rest before Caleb can get them somewhere else. So he’s applying herbs and oils and all that, just to ease the pain a little bit, just to sleep and—

And there is Fjord’s hand, gentle, warm, and it lightens the load, just a little, that feeling of the ocean running through his blood, and somehow, it is comforting, not frightening. The sea is healing him. _Fjord _is healing him.

And when he healing’s done, Fjord’s hand doesn’t move.

It’s nice.

**Author's Note:**

> i've fallen for these boys HARD these last couple of months. still working on character voices, which makes fjord extremely difficult, but, hey, it's fun, and also, it's giving me a distraction from schoolwork, so. anyway. people are not things to be fixed but i am not far enough into my own journey of learning that to write a character with the same issue getting over it, so that's a thing.
> 
> tumblr @yahooanswer :-)
> 
> kudo n review if you could!


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